


declan's erective

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene, Spoilers for Twilight Mirage 27: The Miracle of the Mirage: The Siege, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 09:38:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Gig helps Declan’s Corrective prepare for his speech to the Fleet.





	declan's erective

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to aslee for the amazing title, I hope this fic lives up to it!
> 
> And thank you to maddie for looking this over, and for being a treasure in my life even when I accidentally/not really accidentally spoil an episode for them
> 
> which, also: SPOILERS for Twilight Mirage 27: The Miracle of the Mirage: The Siege

“You’re a little intimidating, so go easy on that,” says Gig.

 

He’s trying to be helpful (he’s  _ always _ trying to be helpful, who  _ wouldn’t _ try to be helpful?), but Declan’s Corrective frowns.

 

“I’ll try to dial it down a little bit,” Declan’s says, intimidatingly.

 

“Dial it down a little bit, but give them a pitch on why them being here is already really bad,” sys Gig.

 

Declan’s nods, clearing his throat and straightening the jacket of his grey suit. He looks strangely nervous, glancing over his shoulder at the others in the room, the official types in their uniforms overseeing things on behalf of the Fleet (well, and to be a suitable backdrop, but Gig didn’t tell them that part). Gig gives him a thumbs up.

 

Declan’s undoes the top button of his very nice peach shirt and artfully runs a hand through his hair. He looks  _ great _ . Gig gives him  _ two _ thumbs up.

 

“Can you get a shot of the ship?” says Declan’s. “Also my ship? The Lord And The Bramble.”

 

Gig nods, because of course he can, when it comes to this stuff there’s very little he  _ can’t _ do. Of  _ course _ he can get a shot of both ships. He already has, really. It’s cut together and ready to go as soon as they finish this, but it’s okay that Declan’s doesn’t know that. People aren’t great at getting how he edits stuff: since the stream suppressor, it’s all in his head.

 

Declan’s hums to himself, turning away from him. “People of the Fleet-- hmm, no, that’s not…”

 

He looks a little lost. Gig tries to remember the beginners tips he was given back in the day.

 

“Can you do a smile?” Gig asks. “Can you do like a-- You don’t even have to smile during the thing, but just get yourself in that mood, you know?”

 

Declan’s nods. “Mmm, yes, I see.”

 

Gig grins, because of  _ course _ he gets it, Declan’s is  _ such _ a natural at this, he just doesn’t  _ know _ it yet. But he will.

 

“Because they say when you smile, it tricks your brain into being happy,” Gig adds.

 

Declan’s smiles. It’s… well, it’s not great for a stream, is what Gig would say. People don’t like seeing that many teeth.

 

Declan’s takes a breath. “Citizen’s--” He falters a little, voice fading out.

 

“Are you ticklish?” says Gig, “We could try that.”

 

“Do  _ not  _ touch me Mr. Kep-hart,” says Declan’s.

 

Gig holds his hands up. “Okay!”

 

Declan’s shoulders slump, ruining the clean lines of his nice suit, which won’t do at all.

 

Gig presses his lips together. “Can you guys give us a minute?”

 

The official types nod, letting themselves be hustled out of the room. Gig waits until the door’s shut before he turns to Declan’s.

 

“I just have to think about what we want, that’s all,” says Declan’s.

 

There’s a difference, Gig knows, between being someone who great at giving speeches, and being someone who’s great at giving speeches  _ on camera _ . Listen, he  _ knows _ Declan’s great at speeches - he’s got a  _ great _ voice, a great presence, doesn’t wave his arms around a lot like Gig did when he was just starting out. When it clicks for him, it’s going to click in a  _ big _ way and he’s going to be absolutely  _ great _ on stream.

 

He just has to convince Declan’s of that.

 

Gig steps closer to Declan’s, whose eyes snap open. Gig feels momentarily dazzled.

 

“Listen,” says Gig, “ _ listen _ , there’s nothing to it! I’ve heard you speak! You’re a great speaker! People want to hear great speakers, even if they don’t know who the person is or anything about them.”

 

“Right,” says Declan’s, his voice quiet.

 

Even though Declan’s voice is soft, the deep tone of it in the small, quiet room makes Gig suppress a shiver. 

 

“Right!” says Gig, “Exactly! And you should use that tone, it’s perfect.”

 

Declan’s frowns. “Which tone?”

 

“Oh, you just had it, just before,” says Gig, “It’s um, its sounds kind of like--”

 

Declan’s steps forward, into Gig’s space. “Like this?”

 

Gig doesn’t suppress a shiver this time.

 

“Right,” Gig clears his throat, “Right, that’s the one.”

 

“Why this tone?” says Declan’s.

 

Gig licks his lips. “It’s, uh, it’ll play well, I think.”

 

Declan’s leans closer, almost but not quite touching Gig, the fabric of his clothes whispering against Gig’s.

 

“It’ll play well,” says Declan’s, giving him a considering look.

 

Gig swallows. It’s hard to think straight with the room so suddenly warm. “Yeah, people… people like tones like that.”

 

“And what about  _ you, _ Mr. Kep-hart, do  _ you _ like tones like that?” 

 

Declan’s lips quirk upward slightly, and that’s a  _ much _ better smile than before. Gig would tell him so, if he could get his voice to work properly right now.

 

So instead Gig tells him another way: He leans forward and presses his lips to Declan’s.

 

Declan’s huffs a laugh, deepening the kiss in a way that makes Gig’s knees immediately go weak. He clutches at the lapels of Declan’s suit and then lets go, leaning back.

 

“Sorry,” says Gig, “You just said not to touch you.”

 

Declan’s smiles again, that smile that would work so  _ perfectly _ in a stream. “Thank you for being so respectful, Mr. Kep-hart, but you should think of this situation as an exception to that request.”

 

“Oh!” says Gig brightly, “Good! In that case..”

 

He palms a hand over the front of Declan’s pants and grins, pleased, at Declan’s sharp inhale at his touch. Declan’s pulls him closer, trapping Gig’s hand between them as he kisses Gig again. Gig runs his free hand up Declan’s back, sighing into Declan’s mouth.

 

Declan’s walks them backwards, still kissing Gig, until Gig’s legs bump into one of the plush red couches that line the room. He turns them, sitting down into the chair and pulling Gig down into his lap. Gig goes happily, chasing Declan’s lips.

 

Gig rubs against the growing bulge in Declan’s pants shamelessly, grinning against Declan’s lips. He reaches between them, slowing his motions in order to loosen Declan’s pants enough to get a hand inside. Declan’s grunts, his head tipping back against the soft back of the chair. Gig kisses a line down Declan’s neck, careful not to leave bruises where the stream will be able to see it.

 

After all, this is just for him. Just for them. 

 

Gig shifts and Declan’s thigh slips between his leg, a reminded of his own growing arousal. The sound he makes must be louder than he thought, or maybe Declan’s notices the motion of Gig’s hips against him, because he looks back at Gig.  _ That _ smile on his face. 

 

Gig shivers. Maybe that smile isn’t so good for streams after all. It’s far too dangerous.

 

Declan’s cups the back of Gig’s head, kissing him deeply, swallowing Gig’s moans as Declan’s grinds his thigh up in-between Gig’s legs. Declan’s unbuttons Gig’s pants and Gig wriggles them off, leaving him bare in front of Declan’s gaze.

 

Declan’s slides his hands around Gig’s hip, pulling Gig in-between his spread legs. He ducks his head, pulling up Gig’s tank top to mouth at his stomach before moving lower. Gig bites his lip, trying to muffle his whine as Declan’s licks a stripe over his entrance. 

 

Gig grips Declan’s shoulder, wrinkling the fabric as Declan’s mouth works him, quickly adding to the building heat inside him. He can feel his legs trembling, Declan’s grip on his hips the only thing keeping him standing.

 

Declan switches from teasing circles around his clit to licking it, the broad strokes of his tongue pulling the air from Gig’s lungs and making it hard to breathe. Gig can feel himself falling, reduced to only sensations, reduced to the warmth of Declan’s hands gripping him tight and the relentless pace of his mouth.

 

Gig manages to keep himself quiet as Declan tips him over the edge, letting out a long, quiet whine and gripping Declan’s jacket so hard he might actually be tearing it.

 

Declan’s guides Gig back down onto his lap and Gig tilts his head up, pulling Declan’s down for a sloppy kiss. He runs a hand through Declan’s hair, keeping Declan’s in place as he slides a hand down, freeing Declan’s cock.

 

Declan’s lets out a choked curse, arching up into Gig’s hand. Gig grins, his hand running along Declan’s length slowly before he begins to pump him in earnest. Declan’s groans, biting Gig’s lip. Gig’s motions slutter for a moment before resuming its pace, and he can  _ feel _ that smile against his lips.

 

Gig slides his free hand up Declan’s chest, slowly popping the buttons on Declan’s very nice shirt. He ducks his head, mouthing at the newly exposed skin. Declan’s groans. Gig can feel his muscles trembling under him, a wave ready to break.

 

“If we had more time,” says Gig, in between kisses, “I’d lock the door and postpone the stream. Maybe postpone it a whole day.” He looks up at Declan’s through his eyelashes. “If you could spare the time.”

 

Declan’s comes with a low groan, spilling over Gig’s hand. He manages to stop it getting onto Declan’s suit, looking around for something to clean up with that won’t be immediately noticeable. Declan’s reaches into his jacket pocket and hands Gig a very nice peach pocket square.

 

Gig wipes his hand, and Declan’s before tucking him back into his underwear, and then leans forward, the head resting on Declan’s shoulder. He sighs.

 

“I’d better, you know,” says Gig, gesturing to his pants on the floor, “we’ve got a stream to finish.”

 

Declan’s shifts under him. “You’re not, uh, going to broadcast that part, are you?”

 

Gig laughs. “Of course not, I delete private stuff.” He pauses. “Unless you want a copy.”

 

Declan’s makes a sputtering sound, and Gig laughs again. He presses a kiss to the top of Declan’s head, smoothing his hair back into it’s artfully ruffled state.

 

“Come on,” says Gig, “You’re going to do  _ great _ .”

 

“I definitely have a lot less nervous energy,” Declan’s says.

 

That smile is there again, but smaller, softer at the edges.  _ Now _ , Gig thinks,  _ now it’s perfect. _

 

Gig straightens Declan’s coat shoulders, and turns him around so he has the appropriate backing, the twilight mirage behind him.

 

“C’mon, let’s go. Other people deserve that smile,” Gig clasps his shoulders, and starts streaming the footage.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
